


It Lingers Deep Inside You Still

by ramee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, lots of fluff, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramee/pseuds/ramee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry never wants to get used to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Lingers Deep Inside You Still

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffiest thing I've ever written.

It's half ten on a Tuesday night, and Harry is sad.

It's not something that's been completely rare lately, with the people who were constantly trying to tear him down and the struggle in trying to tell the difference between who actually cared about him and who was just using him for his position as Harry Styles, international popstar.

But there's one place where Harry can relax, a place where he can breathe and where he can feel warm and beautiful and loved, and that place is in Louis's arms. Louis holds him when Harry is feeling sad or insecure or just tired; tired of the spotlight and tired of the lies. Tired of wasting all of his energy on hiding the one thing in his life that made him truly, deliriously happy—his boyfriend.

“I never wanna get used to this,” Harry says with his face buried in Louis's chest, so quietly that Louis has to ask him to repeat it. He does, and Louis's brow furrows.

“Get used to what, love?” Louis asks, carding his fingers once again through his boyfriend's curls. They're snuggled under a blanket on their oversized sofa, for they're to exhausted to make the journey up to bed. The room is filled with now blown-out candles because Romance, Harold. Romance! and the remains of the pizza they had just devoured were tossed onto the coffee table carelessly.

“You,” Harry says as he presses a kiss to the stubble on Louis's chin. He always complains about the hair Louis sometimes likes to let grow on his chin, but really he loves the way he can feel the scratchiness on his face when they kiss. He loves it because it's so completely Louis, and really, how could he not? “This. Us.”

Louis is still slightly confused but he knows that Harry will explain what he means in due time. Harry thinks the way he talks; slowly and carefully, perfecting each word before he says it out loud.

A few moments pass of Louis playing with the hair at the base of Harry's neck, Harry shivering at the contact. Louis presses his lips into the top of Harry's head and holds them there, breathing in the sent of strawberry shampoo and other things that are so completely Harry it makes him forget how to think for a moment.

“I don't want to get used to his,” Harry continues. “I want you to take my breath away every time you kiss me. I want to feel the butterflies in my stomach every time you walk through the door and I want to blush every time you compliment me. I don't want to lose this.”

Louis chuckles lightly into his boyfriend's hair because that was such a ridiculously Harry thought to have. “Honey,” Louis begins. “Nothing's ever gonna change. I won't let it.”

“How can you be sure, though?” Harry says, genuine fear in his voice and hell if that didn't break Louis's heart a little bit. “We've already been together for three years. Before we know it we're gonna be old and repetitive and boring.”

Louis laughs again because he and Harry are a lot of things—they're crazy and infatuated and emotional and touchy-feely and a little bit irrational and so completely, blindingly in love—but they're not boring. He tells Harry this, and Harry shakes his head.

“It could happen, Louis.” Harry is looking Louis in the eyes now, deep green meeting ocean blue, and he's so scared that Louis can feel his chest throb. “It happens to everyone. Every couple. They all get worn-out. I don't want that to be us, Louis. I want to keep the spark forever.”

“Harry,” Louis starts. “I promise you that for the rest of my life, I will do everything I can to put those butterflies in your stomach. I will sweep you off your feet and I will make every day a new adventure. It's gonna be like this forever. Just you and me, yeah? We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be great.”

“Promise?” Harry says with the softest of innocent looks in his eyes and Louis wants to kiss him, so he does. He peppers kisses all over Harry's face, planting a final one on his lips before answering.

“Promise,” Louis responds with Harry's face between his hands. “We keep our promises, don't we?”

Harry nods and presses his lips to Louis jugular and then to his chin and then to his nose. Louis rolls his eyes.

“Just kiss me, you idiot,” he says fondly.

“No,” Harry says tiredly.

“No?”

“Tired,” Harry says and Louis is having none of that so he tilts Harry's chin up and slots their lips together. Harry smirks into the kiss before pulling away and nuzzling his face back into Louis's chest, kissing the fabric of his t-shirt because he kind of needs his lips on some part of Louis at all times.

“Wanna go upstairs to bed, angel?” Louis asks quietly.

“No. Comfy. Warm.”

And Louis is really not comfy because he's settled into an awkward angle against the back of the sofa and his back is definitely going to be hurting in the morning but it's okay because Harry's sleepy voice is precious and he can't bring himself argue with him.

“Goodnight, love,” Louis whispers into Harry's shoulder and it's bittersweet because he wants this night to go on forever; he wants to be pressed up against Harry and feel the warmth that is his skin (he thinks he might take Harry to a doctor because his body temperature is quite frankly unnatural) and now he understands what Harry's fear, because he doesn't want to get used to him, either. He wants to be able to learn something about Harry that he didn't know before and he wants to find new blemishes on his skin. He wants to feel his heart pound when he hears his favorite three words like he felt the first time he heard them in Harry's gravely voice. He wants to know Harry better than he knows himself, but he never wants to stop learning, to stop discovering.

And then he drifts off to sleep with every intention to kiss Harry senseless as soon as he wakes up, because he can do that and it'll never get old.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos would be awesome. Find me on [tumblr](http://morelou.tumblr.com/)


End file.
